


the ghost of you is always near

by rainstorm97



Category: Z-O-M-B-I-E-S (Disney Movies)
Genre: "halloween" fic that's not actually set on halloween, Addison has PTSD, Angst, F/M, Gen, Horror, Not Beta Read, Or more than a friend, Past Character Death, Song: Your Ghost (Marianas Trench), i don't know how to tag things, it's a little gory but not terribly descriptive so i think it's fine, whatever floats your boat, wyatt's a good and supportive friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27199696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainstorm97/pseuds/rainstorm97
Summary: It’s like every time you vanish somehow you’re still hereYou never seem to manage just to disappearAnd everything I see comes crashing down on meBut the ghost of you is always near-Your Ghost, Marianas TrenchThe past is not kind to Addison.
Relationships: Zed Necrodopoulus/Addison Wells
Comments: 7
Kudos: 10





	the ghost of you is always near

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keep_swinging](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keep_swinging/gifts).



Her face is stone cold as the casket is lowered into the ground. She can hear the cries and whimpers and sniffles around her, figures in black mourning the loss of a brother, son, friend. She knows she should be crying, should be breaking down, but she can’t. She just stares at the hole in the ground, motionless, face devoid of any emotion.

Wyatt’s fingers brush gently against hers, and she lets him take her hand. When he squeezes it, she just sighs.

“What are you thinking?” he murmurs.

Her thoughts are as empty as the casket beneath their feet.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

She spends the better part of the next two days in bed, switching between staring at the wall and staring at the ceiling. Wyatt brings her food, which she nibbles on, and manages to talk her into taking a shower, saying that it might make her feel better.

“He would want you to move forward,” he says.

As she steps into the shower, hot water stinging her skin, she knows for a fact that he’s wrong. 

There was only one thing he wanted, and the thought of it sent chills down her spine.

It was the last thing he ever said to her.

_“Kill me.”_

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Three days later, she sees him.

She’s walking to her mailbox, squinting in the morning sun, and stops when an unmoving figure across the street catches her eye.

He looks just as she last saw him - worn-down jeans, dark green shirt, the ratty jacket that he didn’t fix up once in the time that she knew him, and a blank stare.

And once she blinks, he’s gone.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

It takes her two weeks to really realize what she’s done.

The house is quiet, save for the occasional rustle of a page turn from her book, or the faint laughter echoing from the tv in the living room. A yawn escapes from her mouth, and she moves to put her book on the nightstand, but stops when she sees the message scribbled on the previously-empty sticky note.

_Look under your bed._

Chills creep up her spine as she reads the note over and over again. There’s no mistaking the handwriting; she’d recognize that chicken-scratch anywhere. But it’s not possible - it’s been two weeks. _You’re just seeing things,_ she tells herself, sets her book on top of the sticky note, and heads to the bathroom to perform her nightly routine.

The entire time she removes her makeup, she repeats that mantra in her head.

_You’re just seeing things. You’re just seeing things._

While she brushes her teeth, the mantra is replaced by the image of the note. It wasn’t written in a hurry - the letters, while scratchy-looking, were neat, with no smudges or streaks. Maybe it wasn’t actually his writing; every note or letter he had written her always had at least one ink spill or crossed out word.

Once she’s finished, she returns back to the bed, and carefully picks up the book from the nightstand.

_Look under your bed._

Her breath catches in her throat as she sees the note again. The indentations of where pen met paper look like tiny valleys flooded with ink. Someone had definitely written this, and recently. Maybe it was just a prank. Or maybe Wyatt had left her the note to remind her of something she forgot she placed there (though how he would manage to perfectly imitate _his_ handwriting she would never know). Regardless, she sets the book aside and kneels on the carpet, grabbing her phone and turning on the flashlight.

_There’s no such thing as monsters under your bed,_ she reminds herself, and lifts up her comforter.

Shining the flashlight underneath, she can see that everything is just as she left it - boxes of extra decorations and random junk, various board games, a dropped receipt, and multiple dust bunnies. Only one thing is out of place, and it’s a single piece of paper folded up like a tent. Squinting, she adjusts her flashlight to better read the message written in large black lettering:

_Made you look_.

She scrambles backwards, dropping her phone and nearly giving herself rug burn in the process. Clambering to her feet, a gasp escapes her as she looks at her bed.

He’s lying there, looking just as she last saw him - worn-down jeans, dark green shirt stained with fresh blood from the knife in his chest, ratty jacket with blood splatters, and a lifeless stare.

It isn’t until his eyes flick over to hers and he breaks into a smile that she screams.

He sits up mechanically, moving to stand. As his foot hits the floor, she watches as a drop of blood rolls off of the knife in his chest and onto the carpet. 

When he takes a step forward, she steps back, squeezing her eyes shut as her back hits the wall. The carpet muffles his footsteps, but it doesn’t matter since all she can hear is the pounding of her heartbeat and her shallow breathing as she senses him getting closer, and closer...

“Addy?”

She opens her eyes to see Wyatt standing before her, his face full of worry. Her eyes flick over to her nightstand, where an empty sticky note sits.

“Addy?” Wyatt repeats, taking a step closer to her. “What’s wrong?” 

She goes to respond, but the words get caught in her throat, and all she can do is shake her head as tears begin to fall. He wraps her in a hug as she sobs into his chest, clutching the front of his t-shirt to help her keep a grip on reality. 

“I think you should give Dr. Brown a call,” Wyatt says quietly while he holds her, and she just nods wordlessly.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Instead of therapy, she visits him. 

Orange and red leaves crunch beneath her feet as she walks through the forest, retracing her steps back to where they met for the last time. She doesn’t get too close; instead, she sits on a fallen tree trunk a few yards away, committing the scene to memory. The trees were starting to become bare, the majority of the leaves having already fallen to the forest floor.

She wonders if the crimson leaves that lay on him were always that color. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

_The next day, the police receive an anonymous tip, and the woods are combed until they find his body._

_His death is ruled a suicide, the police not keen on opening a murder case for a zombie._

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

It's been a year. 

She's visited him enough times that she could walk to him with her eyes closed, but she doesn't. Instead, she notices little bursts of color from fake flowers around the cemetery, a stark contrast from the world of gray and white around her. It's peaceful there, with snowflakes falling slowly before sticking to the grass and gravestones. The only sound around her comes from the crunch of the snow beneath her feet, and the rustling of tree branches above her.

The casket beneath her feet was no longer empty. 

They say you really die twice - once when your last breath leaves your body, and then when someone mentions your name for the last time. 

With a shaky breath, she brushes the snow off of his gravestone, and decides to breathe a little bit of life back into him once more.

“ _Zed_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> This is my first time posting a fanfic, and it's not quite as good as I think I could make it, but unfortunately I don't have a lot of time to write with school going on.
> 
> Please leave a kudos or a comment and let me know what you think!
> 
> P.S. Happy Birthday Keeps :)


End file.
